Tuberose in the Sand
by Tornado Nero
Summary: The name Maryam means "tuberose", right? Well this Maryam means "rebellious". Maryam Sadir grew up knowing three things under her mother's care: she is the daughter of an unknown man, she is a princess and of those things is a lie. Will Maryam be able reclaim her rights and bring back the magic to the Seven Deserts? Probably not but she have many plans, plans inside of other plans.


This story is a silly attempt to show you a idea that my friend Ari and I came up a few months ago after our General Historiography class. Be aware: there's a lot of plot holes in story behind Maryam's birth which are crucial to the narrative, English isn't my first language and a friend of mine said it could be a nice try to write a fanfic to have a strong grasp on this language, this story have undertones of abuse and depression, but safe enough to be rated M. Ari came up with the idea that Agrabah is located somewhere between Iraq and Arabia, probably near Jordan's equivalents in a fantasy world which we have the "Seven Deserts", but there's a lot of Persian influence in the series and because of the series' inconsistence, there will be some inconsistence here.

Originally this story was going to be centered in 1001 Nights' universe, but a Descendants version sounded a bit more interesting to use as an approach. Enjoy.

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What a fine day: the birds are chirping, the athletes are running, some students are chatting with one another… The same lame day under the perfect dome of normality, the sold image of equality, utter false equality. Some folks may say "it's unfair to force magical beings to act as humans." and "they don't know how painful is to live with this spark of magic biting my veins from the inside!" but this isn't even the tip of the iceberg. Only someone who understands that magic not always comes in the shape of a creature could see it as it seems. The only person who could understand it at this moment is that girl almost sleeping over some old books at the school's library. By her looks she was a veteran and also from the Seven Deserts region, her colorful brown and green clothes almost screamed that she lived in Agrabah before coming to Auradon Prep, the kohl in her eyes seemed to be permanent, since not even her hand that was serving as support to rest her head was able to make a smudge on her perfectly lined eyes.

"It's past noon, when you are going to eat something?" A tall boy said just behind the sleepy girl.

"… Who needs to eat that garbage?" She replied, almost trying to convince herself she wasn't hungry. "I rather starve than have that bland food in my mouth."

"I'm surprised that I'm hearing it coming from the worst cooker in Agrabah." The boy tried to lighten up the mood by the playful tone he used, but…

"I know it's surprising, but I like the dishes she tries to cook. The food here have little to no scent and it's basically sugar over everything, there's no caramelized sweets or dried fruits."

" _And no grains and hardly we have nuts_ , please, stop. I don't even know how many times I heard this speech, but today you are being out worldly annoying to be around, Maryam." He said crossing his strong arms in front of this chest.

"Then, you need a better hobby than be around me and my study's schedule."

"… Fine." He sighed loudly. "And that's why I'm your only friend, not even your roommate bears your shenanigans…"

"We are starting to bear each other, Renata doesn't touch my things and didn't try to cross the line in the floor."

"Line?! You… You drew a line dividing the room…? Please, say to me you didn't gone this far."

"Do you want me to lie to you?"

The boy planted his face in his right hand, heavily breathing while walking towards the pike of books under the girl's gaze. She was so tired that she didn't noticed his dark hands picking up the books to put them in their righteous places, just when her notebook was the last object on the table, she woke up:

"Mert! I have to finish my studies!" She said as snapping, but she wasn't really mad at him, everyone who knew Maryam to a certain degree could see she was faking her anger.

"Studies? I can't recall if 'secretly digging up the sorcerers' past' is an appointed class of yours, but I'm sure there's no class under this name."

"It's called 'history of the magic'."

"This isn't even a good name."

And then, the two figures from the Seven Deserts region walked side by side to eat something. Almost no one sat with them, mostly because Maryam didn't enjoyed anyone's company and Mert is the only student who can handle her temper and her comments about how she could cook something way better. Sometimes the thought how the daughter of the worst cooker in the world could have a gourmet like tongue plagued his mind.

"Hey-oh, Mert!" A small ginger girl approached the table, but didn't sat to be with them. "Can you pretty please help me out with the fencing practice after the school time?!"

"Mert isn't good with swords." Maryam mumbled, Mert just gave her a disproving glance before turning to the smaller girl and trying to give an assuring smile:

"Sure, but I guess they will refuse your entrance anyways. Not because you are small, but because you are younger than the others."

"My father was fourteen when he started to live his adventures and my mother was twelve! I'm old enough to be the 'chosen one' of something!"

Maryam tried to hold her laughter because of the little girl's dreams, but she failed, ending up with a bit of bread getting stuck in her throat, her coughs didn't made it lighter to the smaller one, who seemed quite disappointed.

"Wait just one more year, Tegan. You are a capable warrior!" Mert tried to encourage the little girl, which didn't really worked, but when he stood up from the table and lifted the other by her waist to spin her while saying encouraging words, she smiled. That's Mert: nothing like his father Merc. Maryam couldn't do anything but stare those two acting like siblings and let her mind wonder a little. What if she had a young brother or sister? The thought seemed to be happy at first, but them… She frowned to avoid this thought, only coming back to reality when Mert put the girl called Tegan on the floor and biding her a goodbye in the most brotherly way she had never heard before: "You can do it, Heroine Tegan!"

"… Let me guess, her main goal is to be a… Fencer?"

"She's talented enough to be part of the R.O.A.R. team, she is just too young."

"And they already have all the players they need." Maryam's serious face turned into one of a dreamy girl, but Mert knew she was faking it. She had to be faking it! She never enjoyed sports! "Since the Isle folks arrived, the team is more than complete."

"… Can you please stop?" Maryam's face became slightly surprised by Mert's words. "Everyone knows you don't have a crush on no one, so stop pretending you are enchanted by _someone's_ looks and talents to get his attention, he isn't this kind of guy."

"Okay, I get it, not pretending I'm crushing on Jay." A moment of silence fell between the duo until Maryam asked: "At least I convinced some people, right?"

"Even me. I really thought you are infatuated by his presence. Well, not exactly, I know you enough to know you were just playing pretend, but you indeed fooled some people."

She laughed at his words, a genuinely happy laughter, not a mocking cackle. Mert couldn't be more pleased to know that Maryam isn't so cold-hearted and fake as she tried to be seemed yet. The fact is that Mert knew Maryam since they both were just infants and seeing what Maryam, a lively girl, turned into through the course of the years pained him a little. How could someone who never faced nothing could change that much? Maybe something was missing in her life? "Mert." Her words brought him back to their conversation. "Changing the subject, what do you think about my eyes?" She asked it by the first time almost ten years ago and the more the time passes, the more she asks. Someday she is going ask it daily.

"They are pretty." He replied as he always did before.

"Just pretty?" But now it was the first time she reacted with something that wasn't a low 'okay, thanks'.

"Do you want me to make a lame description? Like how they shine and use a lot of fancy words?"

"Not at all, I just wanted to know what you see when you look at them."

"… I see my childhood friend."

"That's enough." She seemed disappointed as she walked to her room. Mert couldn't walk by her side from that point, but something bugged him: why she seemed so disappointed?

Because she was. She is. She was upset enough to take her other notepads with clear anger, upset enough to draw the attention of her roommate Renata:

"Let me guess, someone touched your hair or tried to reach something on your table?"

With squinted eyes, she answered the taller girl with a question: "Nothing happened, but what do you think about my eyes?"

Renata pouted, a little taken aback from her roomie's request for an answer. "… Odalisque like?"

"This is isn't a valid answer!"

"Lined!" Renata tried. "Almond-shaped! Brown! … Normal?"

Maryam sighed and with a hand wave, she dismissed Renata's opinions. Nothing they said are watch she wanted to hear.

For the rest of the afternoon until the nightfall, she replayed their voices in her head. Not the most pleasant compliment could calm her thought about her eyes being someone else's eyes. She even caught herself trying to find her reflection in any mirrored surface just to look at her eyes. When school time was over, she headed to the library, looking for one of the books she had under her hands earlier in that day. The reason? Because she finally discovered something about the sorcerers from the Seven Deserts, not something really useful, but something personal. Something she wanted to know since she was five years old, since the day she heard an old woman say something about: "The necromancer's eyes. So… She was talking about those eyes." The page she opened that book showed a picture, a rather realistic image of a sorcerer, his name wasn't written under or above the picture, but she knew who he was. She knew because his name was written in bold letters in the text which showed other names in bold letters. "… Do I really look like him?"

"Looks like who?" The voice came from Tegan, the little girl who wanted Mert's help.

Maryam closed the book calmly to not look suspicious, after all, anyone would be aware that something was deadly wrong if she had closed the book quickly like novel's protagonists always do. "No one." Her mind, fast as the wind, thought something to make Tegan believe her: "One of my friends said that I looked like a sorcerer who I never heard about, so I came here to see if he was lying or not. Turns out he was."

But Tegan is clever too: "One of your friends you mean 'Mert'? He would never compare anyone to a villain!"

"I have other friends in this place, but they make other activities aside from studying, which is not my case."

The little girl didn't seemed like someone who believed in Maryam's words, but this isn't a problem, right? All that Maryam had to do was to hide that book from everyone, no one could see that picture! No one could see the eyes of a necromancer in Maryam's face like the old woman back in Agrabah could see!

"You could just use the internet." Tegan said before walking away, she didn't waited to hear Maryam say "I did!"

Maryam, free from her problem called Tegan of Llyr calmly walked with that book under her arm. No one could see, no one will see… No one will suspect! No one will ever think it's a coincidence that Maryam looked alike that Sorcerer, that Necromancer.

It would be really troublesome if someone found out that her father is a villain. Who cares that she never knew him? All crimes are equal and all villains' children are evil as if it's something physical, something you can have by inheritance, under Adam's iron fists, right?

* * *

I tried.


End file.
